


A Splash of Colour

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Beginnings, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, MSBY, Pining, timeskip fic, twin dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: “Sooooo, how did you let Rin know?”“We-ell, it was a long time ago, and I’m not sure I can really remember, but there was… um … food involved and one study session when you weren’t around, and I guess we just sorta….uh…”And then the noise was explained because there in the kitchen doorway stood Suna, shoes off and jacket over one arm. “What he’s trying to tell you, Miya, but can’t find the words is that he didn’t do a thing because he’s even more dense about these things than you undoubtedly are.”When Atsumu needs relationship advice he turns to his brother ... which might not be the best idea, but it's the only idea he has.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 76
Kudos: 519





	1. Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This kinda spiralled. :D 
> 
> Anyway, I love the current arc, and I adore the Miya dynamic and this came out of that.

When Atsumu turned up, hands in pockets and a mask over his face, Osamu wasn’t in the sunniest of moods.

He supposed he couldn’t really blame his brother, even if his motive for being here was suspect, it wasn’t his fault ‘Tarou had gone into one and stalked off.

Okay, so ‘Tarou probably was right that Atsumu would start gloating soon as he saw him, but would it honestly be the main reason he was here?

Osamu wasn’t sure. Of course his brother _was_ that petty, but would he actually rush round the first day of off-season to rub it in that his team had beaten ‘Tarou’s? Would he bother making that effort when he could text instead?

“Hey.” Atsumu lifted his hand, waving a touch pathetically. “C’n I come in?”

“Sure.” Holding the door open, he let Atsumu trudge inside, gesturing towards his kitchen. “I’m cooking, so sit in there will ya?”

“On your day off?”

“Still have t’ eat,” he said pugnaciously.

“Thought you’d pop downstairs ‘n get somethin’ from your place. You are the boss, after all.”

“I like cookin’,” he muttered.

Atsumu hovered by the table, not yet taking a chair. “Somethin’ new?”

“Nope.”

“Ahhh.”

He didn’t like the knowing look Atsumu was giving him, but he let it go because right now he was not in the mood for confidences and chat. “Why you here?” he asked instead.

“Uhm… thought it’d be nice to see my brother,” Atsumu muttered, without a sting. “Is … uh … Rin here?”

“He was right, wasn’t he!”

“Huh?”

“You _are_ here to shit-talk him?”

“No! I mean…” He gave a smirk (a small one, though). “I cou-ould.” Osamu scowled. Atsumu flinched. “Honest ‘Samu I’m here to see you.” Sitting heavily on a chair, he inhaled deeply. “Smells good. C’n I stay for dinner?”

“Nope. There’s only enough for two.”

Although if ‘Tarou didn’t come back, then he might as well give his to Atsumu. He scowled again, and began to chop up the carrots with such speed and ferocity he could see Atsumu wince.

“Jeez, you’re scary with that knife. No wonder Rin’s gone out. Had a row?”

“What do you want, ‘Tsumu?” he asked, glowering.

“That’s a yes then. You always did cook comfort food when you were in a strop.” He sighed. “Sorry, I’ll shut up now.”

“No you clearly want something!”

“Is that why Rin’s not here, ‘cuz I am. Wow, that’s petty.”

“You talk about petty? YOU!” Osamu threw the carrots into the pan, watched the stock splatter up the sides and turns up the heat until it reached a rolling boil. “You turn up, when you _know_ he’s going to be here and we’ve not seen each other for weeks and you expect me to believe that’s not deliberate?!”

“Uh… well, it was kinda deliberate. Like it’s my first day off in a while too, and I knew you’d be around, and I … sorta wondered if Rin would be and …” He wiped his hand over his face. “Look, it don’t matter. I brought you a team shirt if you want to hang it in the shop.”

 _Which was kind of him._ “And now you’re worryin’ me. If this is a trick…”

“No trick. Jus’ wanted to ask you something.”

He turned the heat down, put a lid on the pan, and then joined his brother at the table. “Go on then,” he murmured, not quite mollified in case this was just an elaborate joke. “Be quick, though. I got stuff to do. And ‘Tarou’ll be back soon,” he lied.

“Hoo boy. Okay, then. Uh … it’s like this … um … Any chance of a drink? Like coffee or something, ‘cuz I’m not training today, well not much, so I guess I can have a day off from the diet too, and coffee is—”

“Stop babbling!”

“Haa, yeah.” He took in a sharp breath. “Howjouandringettogether?”

“Say what now?”

“How did you and…” he mumbled the rest of it and blushed so fiercely he covered his face with his hands.

“Speak up,” Osamu said, wondering if he could reach his phone and record this. Jeez, where was ‘Tarou when he needed him?

“Okay dammit! How did you know Rin-kun was interested in you? And how did you let him know you liked him? Also, how did you get together and …. No I don’t want to know that bit. Just how … how did you KNOW?”

“Whoaaaa, slow down. Uh … what?”

Slowly, Atsumu lowered his hands, then with no more preamble, he stared straight into Osamu’s eyes. “How did you tell him you liked him and wanted to take it further?”

“Ah… um … well, it was kinda fluid, you know, and things happened. We were in the same class, same team, studied together, all the normal things that kinda bring you closer and …” Pausing for breath, he stood up. “Coffee, you said?”

“Um yeah, please. So, did you make a move and—”

He filled the kettle, letting the water drown out his thoughts and ‘Tsumu’s noise before asking, “You like someone, then? Who is it?”

“No one.”

“You like no one.”

“No one I’m gonna tell you about. Jeez, this was a bad idea. All I wanted to ask was how you went about it, and you’re givin’ me the third degree. You’re worse than Kita-san when he used to do all that starin’ at us and—”

“Worse than Kita-san? Wow, I’m gettin’ good.” Osamu grinned. “Look, have a coffee and if you want to tell me about it, then I’m here, and I even promise not to laugh with ‘Tarou later.”

“You would as well,” Atsumu moaned, then lay his head down flat on the table. “I’m doomed.”

“So… let me get this straight. You like someone, but don’t know if they like you?”

“That’s part of it,” he replied, and started to gently knock on the table with his forehead. “Dumb! Dumb! Dumb! And I don’t know how to say I like them.”

“But you’ve dated before? Only last month there was that girl you brought round when you wanted cheap onigiri.”

“Which you didn’t give me.” He shrugged. “Bokuto said she liked me. An’ she was nice but we didn’t … uh … click. You know, she didn’t even understand the difference between the minus tempo quick and normal time. Just thought both were ‘fast’.”

“Tragic,” Osamu said, keeping his mouth straight and voice neutral. Downstairs the bustle of the shop reached him, the click of the door opening and closing, and the muffled chatter of his staff.

“Sooooo, how did you let Rin know?”

“We-ell, it was a long time ago, and I’m not sure I can really remember, but there was… um … food involved, I think, and one study session when you weren’t around, and I guess we just sorta….uh…”

And then the noise was explained because there in the kitchen doorway stood Suna, shoes off and jacket over one arm. “What he’s trying to tell you, _Miya_ , but can’t find the words is that he didn’t do a thing because he’s even more dense about these things than you undoubtedly are.”

“RIN!” Atsumu smiled at first but then his eyes narrowed. “How long you been there? Have you been filming this? Gimme your phone. If this goes on the net I will end you!”

“’Tsumu!” he rifled back. “About five seconds. No I haven’t. No, you’re not having my phone. And not if I end you first!” Stepping across the threshold Suna grimaced at Osamu. “May I join you? Or is this private brother talk?”

“He wants dating advice,” Osamu laughed.

“I caught that much. Well, Atsumu, your brother was clueless and didn’t realise even when I was buying him chocolate pudding to share and then letting him eat the lot.”

“So food then …” Atsumu chewed the side of his mouth. “Okay, that’s good.”

“Who _is_ the unlucky girl?” Suna asked.

He mumbled something.

“Didn’t quite catch that,” Suna replied and scraped his chair closer to Atsumu. “Who?”

“Not a girl,” Atsumu muttered. “And I don’t have any idea if he likes me just cuz of volleyball or if he’s interested in me … um … like that.”

“Teammate?” Suna asked, _sounding_ innocent.

A beat. “Course not! I’m not sayin’ anymore. C’ept…” He sighed deeply. “This is the first day off I’ve had in ages and I asked if he wanted to … um … hang out … cuz I thought he might want to and he couldn’t.”

“Oh, well that’s the dealbreaker,” Suna laughed. “You were stood up before it even started.”

“Hey, leave him alone!” Osamu said, flicking Suna with his finger. “It’s not ‘Tsumu’s fault he’s an idiot.”

“Do you mind? My heart’s breaking here!”

Snorting, Osamu handed them all coffee, then took a seat the other side of Atsumu. He shot a warning glance to Suna, who stared back, his eyes dancing.

“It’s not breaking,” Osamu said scornfully. “You have no idea whether this guy even knew what you were talking about. Do you know why he couldn’t … uh … hang out?”

“Said he was seeing his family,” he grumped.

Exchanging glances with Suna, Osamu kept his next answer bland. “And that’s quite possibly true as it’s the end of the season for him as well.”

“Yeah, I know that but … OH, VERY FUNNY ‘SAMU!”

“It was obvious. And I bet he’s on your team,” Suna wheezed. “Please tell me it’s Sakusa? I want to know how you’ll get past his mask!”

“It’s those twisty wrists,” Osamu added, and wiped a fake tear from his eye. “He’ll be putting a spin on your—”

“OOMI-KUN? No Noooooo NOOOOOOOO!” Atsumu yelped, with utter horror on his face. “Why would you think that? _Why?_ ”

“Methinks the Setter doth protest too much,” Suna sniggered. “He does have cool hair, I’ll give you that, but as far as kissing him goes. Come on, you’d have to swim in disinfectant before he’d let you near him. Give up now is my advice.”

“I wasn’t askin’ for your advice,” Atsumu seethed.

“Technically you were,” Suna replied. “You just don’t like the answer.”

“It ain’t Sakusa,” Atsumu insisted, bootfaced. “I’m goin’ now. Thanks for nuthin’” Getting up, he stomped to the door.

“Aw, ‘Tsumu, we only wanted to help,” Osamu cried, trying hard to quell his laughter. “Food, definitely try food. Not only was there chocolate puddin’ but ‘Tarou was puttin’ extra in my bento box for at least a year.”

“A year? Jeez, why did I bother askin’ you two? I ain’t waiting a whole assed year!”

“He’s got a point. Sakusa might have contracted some dreadful allergy to face masks by then,” Suna said. “But then, ‘Tsumu, he’s probably not as dense as your brother.”

“It’s not Sakusa!” protested Atsumu, but there was less rage around him now, possibly because Suna was now ragging on Osamu. “Why did it take so long, Rin? Did ya not think to just ask?”

“Um…” Biting his lip, Suna flicked his eyes to Osamu’s face and then stared at the table. “I … um … didn’t want things to be awkward if I’d got it wrong. I wanted to win too, remember? And turn pro, and … well … if we couldn’t have all played together…”

“Kita woulda kicked our asses,” Osamu murmured. “Sorry I was so dense.”

“Sorry I was so cautious.”

“Ugh, now you’re makin’ me queasy!” Atsumu interrupted. “And stop that hand holding, right now! You’re supposed to be helping me here, not canoodlin’”

“Canoodling?” Suna snorted. “You’ve seen nothing yet, ‘Tsum-‘Tsum. Look, we’re clearly useless. Food worked because Osamu’s ruled by his stomach. For you … um …”

“Disinfectant,” Osamu chirped. “Buy him some hand sanitizer gel. You can get it in different colours now and it could look all pretty like a rainbow. Tie a bandage round it instead of a ribbon – he’d like that.”

“IT’S NOT SAKUSA!” Atsumu yelled. “This is hopeless. You’re both useless! I’ll think of somethin’ myself.” And then grabbing his jacket, he stamped his feet into his shoes and opened the flat door to leave.

“’Tsumu, don’t go!” Osamu called out, still laughing. “C’mon, we’ll be sensible. We’ll even believe you when you say it’s not Oomi-kun!”

“Naw, I’m gonna go. Leave you guys alone. ‘Xpect you want some time together,” he replied, sounding mournful although he lingered as he waited for a repeat of the invitation.

“Oh, well…” Osamu saw Suna’s tiny smirk and then he slipped his tongue through his teeth, and his voice husked. “Okay, then. See ya!” he said weakly.

“Has he actually gone?” Suna whispered.

Osamu nodded. “Thank you for coming back. I couldn’t really tell him to get lost.”

“Guess not.”

“And he wasn’t awful, was he?” Osamu asked.

“He was tolerable … for Atsumu,” Suna replied. “He’s got no chance with Sakusa, though.”

“Naw, I believe him. It ain’t Sakusa.”

“How come? He likes a challenge.”

“In volleyball, yeah, but you know what he likes in life?”

“Volleyball is his life.” Suna stretched out one leg and began to rub his foot up Osamu’s thigh.

“An appreciative audience,” Osamu replied, and returned the pressure. “He always plays to the crowd. And Sakusa don’t get him at all!”

“Like I said, he enjoys a challenge,” Suna murmured, then looked him directly in the eyes. “Want to take this discussion to the bedroom?”

“Suna Rintarou! What are you thinkin’ of?” Osamu huffed and fluttered his eyelashes,

“An audience of one, who appreciates you,” he replied, licking his lips. “And not just your cooking.”

***

It had been a dumb dumb dumb idea to ask his brother. Now he thought about it, he could remember ‘Samu and Rin dancing around each other for ages before they finally got it together. Not that Atsumu had suspected much at the time, but he’d picked up on some odd looks Suna used to flash his brother’s way, which he didn’t think were to do with a good spike.

 _I ain’t waiting a year_.

And he was also a lousy cook and the object of his affections weren’t a school kid bringing in a bento box every day.

_He does like food though …_

Atsumu was hungry now he thought about it, and debated going back to ‘Samu’s to beg for some food, but just then he caught sight of a patisserie, with fancy cakes in the window. Maybe he’d get a bun to stave off his hunger. So loping over, he paused for a moment to see what made his mouth water and then with a grin pulled out his phone.

 **< <Saw this cake and it reminded me of you>>** he typed, sending a photo of a slice of orange cake topped with fluffiest mandarin icing he’d ever seen.

**_< <It’s like my hair! Of course! Thank you, Atsumu-san.>>_ **

**< <Are you home yet?>>**

**_< <Nope. Got another hour. What are you up to? It’s odd without training, isn’t it?>>_ **

**< <Dropped in on ‘Samu. Might go for a run when I get back. Need to work off that cake!>>**

**_< <Ha yeah, wish I could run up and down on this coach. Ugh, my battery is gonna die. Catch you next week!>>_ **

**< <Yeah. See ya.>>**

The sun had gone in again, but there was a little warmth left despite the cloud of his absence. Hinata would be back soon. And he always got his jokes. It was enough to make Atsumu weep!

He huffed out a breath and decided to jog back to his flat. He had a week to kill, a week to rest and recuperate after the gruelling season before he was due to take up light training. Not that he’d stop entirely for this week, but the importance of easing up was ingrained into him after Kita-san’s tenure as captain. The problem was that he had nothing to occupy him. His plan to go home and visit his parents, drop in on his old haunts and swagger into Inarizaki, had been thwarted by a conversation with his mum the night before saying his dad and gran were down with the flu and she was currently run ragged looking after them.

“I know you won’t want to catch anything,” she’d said, before he could get his excuse ready. “And I can’t look after you and them, Atsumu, so stay where you are. It’s not as if you live so far away that we never see you.”

“I’ve had the shot,” he said, trying to make an effort.

“So had Granny. She’s still ill. No, stay away, but send a card, or something to cheer her up, will you?”

“Course.”

Finding a florist on his way home, he wandered in to order flowers for Granny, and another bunch for his mum. He wished he could have gone home, at least for a day or two to switch off. It had all been so much easier back then, where feelings could be dealt with by slamming a ball over a net, or high kicking his brother. He missed that simplicity.

As he waited, he watched the florist’s assistant arrange a vase of flowers, trimming the long stems and placing in what looked like a block of sponge.

“What’s that one,” he asked as she reached for a particularly bright flower, which looked as if it were on fire.

“Orange lily,” she replied and gave smile, not at him but rather at the flowers she was holding.

“Do you mind?” he muttered, holding out his phone.

“You can have some on your bouquets if you’d like,” said the florist.

“Naw, think they’d both prefer roses, but that’s pretty.”

“Here,” said the assistant, and handed over one of the blooms. “Give this one to your girlfriend. Or wear it in your hair.”

“Is it my colour?” he asked, placing it behind his ear with a grin. He snapped a selfie, laughing.

“You know, I think it is,” the florist replied, then pulled out her order pad. “Right, where do you want these bouquets sent?”

The lily was put straight into a vase when he got home. (Not that he had a vase, but there was an empty milk bottle which he hurriedly washed out and then filled with tap water.) And he thought about sending the picture to Shouyou, but would that be odd—two in one day—and it was the same joke.

 _Maybe he didn’t actually find it funny at all. And I’m tiresome_.

But the flower was pretty, a splash of colour on his windowsill against the background of grey sky.

He checked his other messages. The team chat was full of messages from Meian reminding them all not to overdo anything, Bokuto excited because he was going back home and would see all his old school friends, and Sakusa saying he was going to Tokyo, too, but ‘No, Bokuto I’m not meeting up with lots of germ-ridden people’

Oomi-kun. How the heck did Suna think he could be interested in him? And ‘Samu, didn’t he know him better than that? But thinking about Samu and Suna only pissed him off even more. Their togetherness emphasizing the fact that when his team took a break, he had nothing and no one around him.

_Beep boop_

Huh?

Hinata was sending him a message—a picture of a girl wearing a tee shirt with a cartoon fox emblazoned on it. She smiled at the camera and he smiled back on instinct because it was Shou-kun’s exact smile.

 ** _< <‘My sister’s wearing your photo :D’ >> _**he captioned it.

**< <She has great taste!!>>**

**_< <Aw, man, she’s crazy about foxes. UR her favourite player>>_ **

**“Not you? Outrageous!! >>**

**_< <She’s fourteen and embarrassed by her big brother now>>_ **

**< <Tough break>>**

**_< <It’s understandable>>_ **

_Huh… did he really say that?_

And did it mean anything? Anything at all?

 **< <You’ll make me blush>>** he texted back, not telling Shouyou he actually was blushing.

**_< <Setter’s are always cool. She used to like Kageyama>>_ **

_Oh_.

**_< <But according to Natsu, you have better hair>>_ **

Grinning, he clicked send on the photograph taken in the florists. **< <Does it suit me?>> **

**_< <Haaaaaaaaaaaa>>_ **

Hmm, not really an answer.

 ** _< <My sister not only thinks you’re cool but a lot of fun>> _**Shouyou texted. **_< <I’ll never be her favourite player at this rate – not even if I set the ball more>>_**

**< <Find a blond flower>>**

**_< <???>>_ **

**< <Pale yellow I mean>>**

**_< <We’d be like twins!!!>>_ **

Atsumu blinked.

**_< <Sorry. We’re not twins. You already are one. I didn’t mean that>>_ **

**< <It’s part of my collection of things that remind me of Hinata - lol>>** he joked, trying to cover the gap between messages. **< <which is a sub category of Team Mates>> **he added after a while when Shouyou hadn’t replied.

_Right I’m going to shut up because this is obviously pissing him off._

He sulked his way through dinner, mindlessly picking his way through instant ramen and then eating an apple and chugging down a couple of vitamin supplements to make up for the poor nutrition. And somewhere in his head he could see and hear Kita-san tutting, but he didn’t have the will to do anything about it and flopped on his bed instead.

 _I wanna die_.

It took him approximately ten minutes to stop moping. Bored with the drama of it all, he reached across to the side of his bed to pick up a volleyball, and then rolling onto his back, he threw it up in the air, practising bouncing it off his fingertips.

_If I can do a hundred in a row, I’ll eat a cake._

Another cake. Not an orange one.

He scowled and dropped the ball.

_If I can do a hundred in a row, I’ll buy some chocolate._

But it was raining outside and he couldn’t be arsed going out.

_If I can do a hundred in a row, we’ll win our next practise match._

He smiled thinking of a toss that Hinata could leap for, with an angle so acute it would cut into the court.

He dropped the ball. “DAMMIT!”

Grimacing he picked the ball up _. If I can do a hundred in a row, then Shouyou won’t mind the dumb messages._

One … two… three…

He built up a rhythm and the joints in his fingers got into their stride, flexing and furling, sending the ball up higher and faster

Thirty-three … thirty-four … thirty-five

_Beep boop_

The ball dropped onto his face.

“JEEZ, CAN I GET NO PEACE!” he raged, and grabbed his phone.

There was a picture of a bonsai cactus covered in fluff and with a creamy yellow flower on the side.

Huh?

 ** _< <Cactusumu :D >>_** read the caption.

Bursting into laughter, he immediately texted back. **< <DO NOT PUT THAT IN YOUR HAIR, SHOU-KUN!!!!>> **

**_< <TOO LATE!! AGHHHHHH!!!!!>>_ **

After a few minutes, another picture came through: Hinata, screaming at the camera with a wedge of something red smushed on the side of his head ** _. <<TOO LATE!! AGHHHHHH!!!!!>>_**

**< <AGHHHH LEAVE THE COURT! YOU CANT PLAY NOW>>**

**_< <Haaaa, my mom’s just yelled at me for stealing her cherry jam. Better go>> _ **

Still chuckling and with a wide smile on his face, Atsumu resumed his ball bouncing exercise.

_If I can get to a hundred, then …_

Ah, what did it matter? He carried on, got to a hundred and then added more, finally stopping at a hundred and fifty-five.

The week was spent either sending or receiving dumbass pictures like this. He found an orange cat in the street which refused to cooperate and look at the camera, but did leap quite elegantly up onto a wall, so he captioned the video ‘Shouyou with springs’. In reply, Shouyou sent a picture of his hot chocolate with whipped cream squashed to one side and a couple of chocolate chips for eyes, saying ‘Not as sweet as that last toss you sent me’

A bottle of mandarin shampoo, a bar of lily soap. A reddish brown bobble from a woollen hat, versus a cookie half covered in white chocolate.

And it was dumb, the sort of thing kids sent to each other as silly insults, and not what people in their twenties should be texting about.

But … it was fun and never failed to make Atsumu smile. 

***

“You gonna give me a discount?”

Osamu looked up from the onigiri platter he was arranging for his brother. “No. Why would I?”

“How about the fact we’re family?” Atsumu supplied and scowled.

But there was something non-serious about the frown, and a grin soon followed.

“I’m trying to run—”

“A business. Yeah, I know,” he replied, handing over the correct amount.

Osamu narrowed his eyes. “Why are you bein’ so reasonable?”

“Maybe he’s exchanged hand sanitizer with Sakusa,” Suna said from the small table he was sitting at.

Osamu watched a real frown cross his brother’s face, and hurriedly handed over the order. “Please don’t spill blood in my shop.”

“It ain’t Sakusa,” Atsumu grumped. “Wish I’d never said anything.”

Flashing a look at Suna, Osamu was gratified when he pushed the chair opposite him out with his foot. “Want to join me?” Suna asked.

And Atsumu, clearly recognising the concession, sat fairly graciously, and even offered Suna one of his onigiri.

“You know…” Suna began when Osamu sat and joined them. “If it isn’t Sakusa…”

“It’s not,” Atsumu said.

“All I’m saying is that if it isn’t Sakusa, then you still need to find a way to show whoever it is that you like them. I… I do sometimes think I should have taken the direct approach, but like I said I was wary of upsetting team dynamics. Besides…” A wisp of a smile twitched on his lips. “I quite enjoyed the game, even though your brother was clueless.”

“Hey! How was I supposed to know?” objected Osamu. “It was free food.”

“Hitoshi worked it out in a month,” Suna deadpanned. “My point is that the direct approach could be the best thing, but otherwise … how about being nice?”

“Nice?”

“You do know what that means, don’t you?” Suna bit into one of the onigiri. “This is good.”

“Thank you.”

“See,” Suna said, turning back to Atsumu. “That was me being nice, telling my boyfriend his food is good.” He glanced at Osamu. “It really is excellent. I love the tuna, so moist.”

“Thank you.” Osamu replied, a little suspiciously. “Is this you jus’ bein’ nice again? Is there a reason?”

“Teaching by example,” Suna opined. “But the food is good.”

“Oh, man, you ate the last tuna one! C’n I have another?” Atsumu asked, looking imploringly at Osamu.

“If you pay.”

“But I just fed your boyfriend!” Atsumu protested.

“And that was a good and nice thing,” Suna replied. Then he laughed. “Make him another, and I’ll pay.”

Osamu returned with a small plate containing a fatty tuna onigiri and a curled carrot flower as a garnish.

“Ooooh, fancy,” Suna said.

“I’m being _nice_ ,” Osamu replied. “Uh… ‘Tsumu, why are you taking a photo?”

He coughed and hurriedly put his phone away. “No reason. Um … anyway, how long ya here for, ‘Rin? When d’you go back to training?”

“Same as you I imagine,” Suna murmured. “I’m going to see my parents tomorrow for a few of days. Might drop into Inarizaki.”

He didn’t offer an invitation for Atsumu to join him, and although Osamu didn’t exactly expect ‘Tarou to do that, he’d felt a slight flicker of hope that it might happen.

Not that Atsumu seemed bothered, especially when his phone went off and a grin wreathed his face. “I tell ya, do I look like a blob of mayonnaise?” he muttered and laughed.

“What was that?” asked Suna, sounding innocent, but gesturing with his head for Osamu to check Atsumu’s phone.

“Somethin’ dumb. Team stuff,” Atsumu replied and shoved his phone hurriedly into his jacket. He bit onto the last onigiri, then pocketed the carrot. “Anyway, I gotta go. Catch ya later.”

“Sure. If you want to hang out later this week, or next when ‘Tarou’s not around…” Osamu called after his brother.

“Yeah, maybe. Thanks for … uh … this.” He waved as he walked out, whistling tunelessly, reminding Osamu in a moment, of walking back from school together, just before everything got serious and they’d joined Inarizaki.

“He’s happy,” Osamu said.

“Does that bother you?” Suna rolled his eyes. “Please tell me you’re not _still_ tallying up your happiness quotient?”

Osamu grinned. “Naw, him bein’ happy makes me happy, so I win anyway!”

***

He could do nice.

He was sure he could.

It really wasn’t his fault that they didn’t get his sense of humour when paying a compliment. Maybe it was a Kyogo thing, or he’d picked it up from Inarizaki. Perhaps that’s why the guys didn’t understand his humour.

_I am nice to people that aren’t idiots or blunt dumbasses who won’t train without a mask if the gym smells funny._

_Shouyou can be an idiot though_ …

Remembering the time he jumped too erratically and got tangled up in the net, Atsumu laughed out loud frightening a pigeon. But it was a good sort of idiocy, one where he still came up smiling and not sulking.

He’d be back tomorrow. They had a weekend before official training resumed, and he pondered asking him out before then. Something subtle, like going for a run together without the others, but if it were too subtle he’d be stuck like Suna pursuing his dumb brother. And unlike Suna, Atsumu did not appreciate playing the long game. Then again, running was too connected with their everyday life, and if he wanted to make a splash he’d have to be different.

Thinking made his head hurt, so he flicked through his pictures again, laughing at the last one Shouyou had sent of the blob of mayonnaise on the side of a plate of burgers and chips.

 **< <That’s not nutritional, Shouyou>>** he scolded and added a cross face, then sent the picture of the carrot and his onigiri. **< <Why are you stealing my onigiri?>>**

**_< <Gahhhh, you’ve been to Onigiri Miya. Much better. We need a permanent branch in Miyagi.>>_ **

**< <Guys?>> **

**_< <I went back to Karasuno today with Kageyama. Kind of mentor thing, organised by Takeda-san. Then we went out for dinner. Kageyama told me off about the burger, too.>>_ **

**< <Tobio’s there?>>**

**_< <Yup. It’s been fun.>>_ **

Oh.

Good.

Just Peachy!

Kageyama was there. They’d had dinner together. It …

Might not mean a thing. _It’d be like me havin’ lunch with ‘Toshi, or Rin._ Except it wouldn’t be like having lunch with them because they’d been teammates and there’d been nothing at all between them apart from that. And more times than not he coulda struck the ‘mates’ part off that word.

But Kageyama… Tobio was Shouyou’s nemesis, the reason he competed so hard. It was, Atsumu knew, the reason he’d tried out for the Jackals and not the Adlers because he _had_ to beat Tobio. It’s what drove him to strive ever onwards.

Kageyama Tobio, when it came down to it, was the reason for Hinata Shouyou and only a dumbass would ignore their connection.

 _Glad for you, kid_ – should have been the text he sent back. It would have been the ‘nice’ thing to do. Then he could have asked him about any other plans, engaged in ‘thoughtful’ dialogue and shown his decent side. But his fingers wouldn’t work and after staring at his phone for a good five minutes, he gave up and took out his frustration by kicking a can across the pavement, finally crushing it underfoot when he reached home.

His mum called, thanking him for the flowers, and apologising again for not being able to put him up. He listened to her chat for a while, told her it was fine and he had plenty to do, exaggerated his meeting up with Osamu into a whole day rather than a fleeting meal, and then when she’d hung up, he switched on the TV wondering if there was a film he could slob out on front of.

Osamu texted shortly after, so he was sure his mum had got in touch.

**_< <Hey, ‘Tarou’s leaving tomorrow, so do you want to do something?>> _ **

**< <He’s letting you see me, is he? That’s good of him>>**

**_< <why are you in such a shit mood?>> _ **

**< <because it’s fucking obvious ur only making time for me because mum called and Suna won’t be around>>**

**_< <I ASKED YOU EARLIER AND WHEN THE FUCK HAVE YOU EVER MADE TIME FOR ME!!>>_ **

ALWAYS! He raged in his head, but he knew it wasn’t true and in his fury at not having ‘Samu here to flying kick across the room he threw his phone instead. Then picking up a quilt, he wrapped it around himself, opened a family size packet of crisps and switched on the TV. Nutrition could take the bullet train to Hell and stay there!


	2. Yuntanpo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for some hurt/comfort and a little more pining?

It was the following afternoon when Atsumu heard his doorbell ring. His first thought was that it was Shouyou despite knowing he wouldn’t be back for at least an hour, and he got up quickly. Too quickly. Still wrapped in his duvet, he tripped and fell on his nose.

“Hey. Wow, what have you done?” Osamu said, peering at his nose.

“Fell over,” he grumbled, and wiped away the drop of blood with his hand. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t care if he sounded rude. He wanted to be alone to brood and didn’t need his brother coming round to laugh at him.

“Free food,” Osamu replied and held out a takeaway bag from his shop. “C’mon, it’s all good stuff and I bet you’re hungry.” He sniffed the air. “Jeez, have you washed today?”

“Didn’t get around to it,” he muttered, and sighed deeply.

“Is that to show me you’re going into sharp decline because of your unrequited crush?”

“Shaddup! This is my slobbin’ out day.”

“So, can I come in?”

“Since when have you bothered to ask?”

“Since we have our own lives and don’t share a room no more,” Osamu retorted with what sounded like his limited patience hanging on a slender thread.

“Sure. Uh, it’s kind of a mess.”

“I won’t tell Granny,” Osamu replied, and handed over the bag. “You dish up.”

He hadn’t just brought onigiri, but a large carton of vegetable broth and steamed dumplings. Grabbing two bowls and two plates (which he hurriedly washed) Atsumu served the food, laying it out on the floor.

“This is like the picnics we had in our room,” Osamu said, smiling.

“We only ate sweets back then.”

“And ended up arguing. Some things never change, eh?” He sighed. “Look, I’m not goin’ to apologise for wanting to spend time with ‘Tarou. But I get that you’re lonely.”

_WHAT?!_

“I actually like my own space,” Atsumu said loftily. “Always have. Hated havin’ to share with you all those years.”

“Yeah, me too. But … what I mean is, much as you like space, and alone time, ‘cuz you never cared much about joinin’ us even for team stuff, it’s different now.”

“What are you babbling on about?”

And it seemed to Atsumu that his brother wasn’t playing for time before he spoke because he was lost for words, but that he was picking them carefully, the way someone would tread through a minefield.

“You _want_ to spend time with someone,” he said at last. “I don’t mean playin’ volleyball, or on the X-Box. I don’t mean goin’ for a run and wanting to beat everyone, but … chilling.”

Atsumu shrugged. “Which is what I’m doing now.”

“Not that sort of chillin’. You want to be close with someone. I never thought I’d be happy jus’ holding someone’s hand but it’s kinda peaceful.” He sipped his soup, swallowing slowly before saying, “It’s Shrimpy-kun, isn’t it?”

“Pardon?”

“Hinata. Shouyou, Shou-kun, whatever you call him. That’s who you like, isn’t it.”

“No!” he protested, but Osamu was pulling his ‘I can read you, ‘Tsumu, we’re not twins for nothing’ look and he folded. “If you think just because I took a picture of a carrot—”

“Uh… no, what about the carrot?” Osamu frowned, then shook his head, not really wanting to think about it. “It’s cuz he makes you light up. You talk about the plays he makes, his jumps, his … tenacity, and there’s real … um … admiration, I guess. You sound … uh … nice when you talk about him.”

“Oh… do I?” He couldn’t stop the heat on his cheeks, but huddled into his shoulders.

“Yeah… just.” He chewed his lower lip, and now Atsumu could see him calculating what to say next, as if he knew it could cause ructions.

“What?” Atsumu muttered.

“Make sure you actually do like him, ‘Tsumu, okay? Cuz if it’s just his volleyball and the fact you’ve found someone you can … uh … connect to on court, then it’ll be a mess if you’ve confused two different sorts of feelings.”

“S’fine.” He tried a shrug, but dropped a chopstick on the floor. “It’s not Shouyou, but I’m not gonna do anythin’ ‘bout it.”

“Cuz of what I said?” Osamu’s eyes were round, panicked even. “Uh… but if you do like him or someone else, then you should tell him. Or do something before it eats you up. Like be a bit more direct than ‘Tarou was with me, but don’t give up just cuz I said so.”

“It’s nothing to do with you. I don’t think he’s interested. He’s just … well … he’s bein’ friendly, that’s all. I read too much into it.” He knew he sounded sulky and petulant, but he didn’t see why he had to be upbeat all the fricking time, certainly not in front of ‘Samu.

“Somethin’s happened.”

“Huh?”

“You was happy yesterday. What’s changed?”

“Twin telepathy,” Atsumu spat.

“Huh?”

“You’re not the only one who thinks it’s could get messy, I weren’t really interested in him. Just bored, that’s all. Got training soon. Must focus on that.” He stabbed his chopsticks into a dumpling, then got to his feet. “I need a drink. Want something?”

“You got beer?”

“Yeah.”

He took two bottles out of the small fridge in the corner, opened both and handed one to his brother.

They drank together, chinking bottles but in a kind of morose silence until Osamu, clearly trying his hardest, started talking about his plans for a new menu. And although Atsumu really wanted him to shut the fuck up so he could wallow in his misery, he found himself listening as his brother talked through other fillings he was considering and whether to introduce new things gradually or make a big change to shake things up.

“You get rid of fatty tuna onigiri and I’ll never speak to you again,” Atsumu warned.

“Worth doin’ then.” Osamu retorted, but with a grin.

“Seriously, though, it’s like a volleyball team,” Atsumu said, ignoring Osamu’s rolled eyes. “You don’t have a mass clear out and start from nuthin’ do ya? Not when the team’s established.”

“I need to shake things up,” Osamu replied. “Don’t wanna get bored.”

“See, it’s _just_ like volleyball. You don’t get rid of your star players, but you might add some variety.” Draining his beer, he considered what else to say. “I think you should keep the tuna and not only cuz it’s my favourite, but if you’re itchin’ for change, then add … um … somethin’ spicy? Somethin’ with colour? A theme? This broth is good, by the way.”

“Granny’s recipe, but I added some chilli. Colour?”

“Change the rice, or the fillings? I don’t know – you’re the chef. What about … um … black rice for Jackals’ games.”

“I can’t be that biased!”

“You could make them look like the players,” he said, suddenly enthused. “Make my hair out of … uh … cabbage. Bokuto could have squid on his head.”

Osamu grinned. “I’m likin’ this idea. Hinata’d be so easy, I could use carrot. And on days you play the Adlers, I can make scowling Ushijimas and Kageyamas. OH OH OH – Sakusa with his own mask and seaweed hair!”

“Bet I sell out before any of ‘em,” Atsumu said and laughed. “You could have a league table.”

“It’ll be Bokuto. You _know_ he’s the crowd favourite. Or maybe Hinata would sell out, cuz _someone_ would buy the whole—” He stopped talking and Atsumu thought he was about to apologise so pulled a ‘fuck off’ face, but instead his brother said, “Is that your phone?”

“Oh… yeah.” Where had he thrown it?

Retrieving it from behind the waste bin, his fingers fumbled and he could feel his eyes blinking as rapidly as his pulse. _Breathe breathe._

“Shouyou-kun,” he said, extra casual as he turned his back on a smirking Osamu. “What’s up?”

“Atsumu-san,” came a woebegone voice. “I’m so sorry to ask you this, but I don’t know anyone else who’s still around and …”

“What’s the matter? Are you stuck somewhere?”

“No, I’m on the coach and I’m nearly back, but …” Hinata gave a husked cry. “I feel so ill and I don’t know how I’ll get home.”

“Ill, what sort of ill? Flu? Stomach upset?”

Face masks, he had them. Surely Hinata carried a stock!

“Earache,” Hinata moaned. “I went swimming and the water must have got in and …” He broke off. “I feel dizzy, and not sure I can walk home by myself.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll meet ya. When are you due in?”

“Thirty minutes. I’m so sorry, Atsumu-san. I couldn’t think who else to ask.”

“Stop apologisin’! I’ll be there.”

“What’s the matter?” Osamu asked.

His eyes flickered, trying to collate his thoughts and what the fuck to do next. “Shouyou’s not feeling good. I … shit I need to have a shower. And tidy up … and … care package!”

“What the—”

“Kita-san’s care package. What was in that?”

“I don’t know, you wouldn’t let me have any of it!” Osamu laughed. “What’s wrong with him? Flu?”

“Says it’s earache.”

“’K, so he won’t want to eat much. Or chew,” Osamu murmured. “If I come with you, then we can call into the shop and I’ll give you some miso for him.”

“You’d do that? Why?”

Osamu gave a chuckle, which turned into rather a sad sigh. “You’ve never put yourself out for anyone, ‘Tsumu, ‘cept maybe Granny. Don’t argue, you know it’s true, but now you’re panicking like a fourteen year old goin’ on their first date. Now go and shower!”

They were there waiting at the coach station when Hinata got in. He stepped off the bus, very gingerly, his bag over his shoulder and hand pressed to his ear. A scarf muffled his neck and head, but what Atsumu could see of his face was pale, and his eyes looked red.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, gasping when he saw Osamu. “Aw, no, I didn’t want to interrupt time with your brother. I know you miss him.”

“He does?” Osamu gave a small smirk.

“Hell, no! Shouyou must be delirious.” Taking Hinata’s bag, he hoisted it over his shoulder, then threaded his other arm around Hinata and led him to a bench. “How long you been feeling like this?”

“It ached a bit this morning but now it’s much worse.”

“Where have you got to get to, Hinata-kun?” Osamu asked.

“It’s just past the high school,” he said, wincing with the effort of speaking.

“Are your housemates there?”

“Asaka-san’s away on a work placement, but Chatan will be around.”

“The guy that’s studying to be an architecht and plays his music really loud?”

“Mmm.” It came out as more of a moan.

“And you know all of this how?” Osamu hissed.

“Shuddup.” Atsumu turned back to Hinata. “Come back to mine. It’s closer and I can call the team doctor, get her to take a look at that ear.”

“I… I … can’t do that!”

“Yeah, you can. C’mon. ‘Samu’s even brought you some miso.”

“That’s so kind of you, Osamu-san,” Hinata whispered. “Both of you, but I can’t cause this much trouble.”

“You’re not,” Atsumu insisted. “Let’s go.”

“Careful, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu murmured. “You’re startin’ to be nice.”

“Naw, I’ll let you pay for the cab.”

Hinata wilted in the cab, lolling against the door, hand cupping his ear as if he’d finally given himself permission to not be okay. And close up, he looked far paler than Atsumu had ever seen him, the freckles standing out in stark relief on his blanched face. Dropping Osamu off, Atsumu directed the driver to the doctor’s surgery, calling ahead to squeeze Hinata in as an emergency.

“It’s an ear infection,” Dr Hanamori said, frowning a little as she examined him. “Not exactly an emergency, Miya-kun, but it looks nasty! I’ll prescribe antibiotics. Rest up, Hinata, take painkillers, and don’t do anything stupid like swimming or washing your hair.”

“Can I go to training?”

“When you feel better, but there’s no point while you’re feeling this bad,” she said sternly and turned to Atsumu. “I don’t know why I’m telling you because you’re just as obsessed, but make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

“I’ll be fine at home,” Hinata muttered when Atsumu started walking him back to his flat. “Honest, I feel better already.”

“Shaddup. You heard the doctor. You need to take it easy. Come back to mine and at least try and sleep for a few hours. I’ll pick up your meds, and I’ll tell Meian-san you won’t be back on Monday.”

“I will be!”

“No, it’s an ear infection, Shou-kun. It’s gonna hurt and your balance could be affected.”

“Wow,” Hinata whispered, with a hint of a smile.

“What?”

“I didn’t think anyone could be scarier than Daichi-san, but you just might be.”

“You never met Kita-san,” Atsumu replied, chuckling. “Didn’t even have to raise his voice and we were scared shitless. Just used to look at us and … whoa, we were whipped!”

Getting back to his flat, Atsumu unrolled his bed, settled Hinata on it with a blanket, and then nipped out to pick up the prescription and a few supplies. He remembered Kita-san buying him pickled plums, and fruit juice and protein bars, but if ‘Samu was right, then Hinata probably wouldn’t want to chew anything. So he bought bananas, vitamins, energy drinks, a big bar of chocolate and a pot of jelly, which his mum had always made when he and ‘Samu were ill.

“Hey,” he called out, closing the door carefully when he got back. “I’ve got your antibiotics. They’re eardrops.”

“Thank you.” He sounded pathetic, flapping one hand in the air as if it caused too much effort, and didn’t move his head from the pillow.

“You’ll need to turn over so I can drop them in,” Atsumu said gently. “And I’ve got you some painkillers.”

“You’re too good to me,” he mumbled.

“Naw, it’s nuthin’. Can’t have my best wing spiker getting’ sick on me.”

“I’m not the best,” Hinata said.

_My best._

“Don’t get delirious, Shou-kun,” he said instead.

“And I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have gone swimming. Certainly not without earplugs.”

“Hey, don’t go all Kiyoomi on me,” Atsumu chided, and pipetted the drops in his ear.

“This wouldn’t have happened to him.”

“Because he never goes out unless he’s covered in bubble wrap.” Atsumu replied and snorted. “Come on, Shouyou. You were having fun. You’re allowed to.”

“An’ I’m sorry about rotting up your afternoon with Osamu-san.”

“You didn’t. We can get together anytime.” Dampening a cotton wall ball with the drops he carefully inserted it into Hinata’s ear, brushing back a lock of his hair which had fallen across his lobe. “Take the painkillers. They’ll knock you out.”

He obeyed, swallowing them down with some juice and settled back on the futon. “You must miss playing with him.”

“Not now, Shou-kun.”

“Sorry, of course you won’t want to talk about it.”

_Huh?_

“Nooo,” he said and chuckled. “I ain’t that deep. I meant I don’t miss him now! I’ve got you guys.”

_I’ve got you_.

Hinata fell into a pattern of dozing after that, so after tidying up, Atsumu lay on the floor and threw the ball up in the air, bouncing it off his fingertips.

A hundred and three … a hundred and four … a hundred and five … a hundred and—“Damn!”

“You’re good at that,” Hinata said, sounding drowsy.

“Keeps my fingers flexible,” Atsumu said, sitting up. “Didn’t know you were awake. Want anything?”

Mouthing a ‘no’, Hinata smiled feebly. “I should get going.”

“You c’n stay here,” Atsumu mumbled. “It’s not a problem. And it’ll be better if someone can look after you. That house mate of yours won’t help at all.” He swallowed. “Only if you want to, o’ course.”

“You’ve only got one bed.”

“I’ve got another bed roll from when ‘Samu crashed here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s cool. Look, Hanamori-sensei told me I had t’ stop you overdoing things, and much as I trust ya on court, Shouyou, off court how do I know you won’t decide you know better and jog home, or go swimmin’ again or somethin’?”

Trying to get up, Hinata gave up and collapsed back on the futon, “I couldn’t jog anywhere right now,” he said. “Guess you’re stuck with me. Natsu’s gonna laugh her head off.”

“Why?”

He yawned. “She was teasing me about having a boyfriend after all those photos we sent. I mean … as _if_?”

“Yeah ...”

“Teenage girls, right?”

“Mmm.” He watched as Hinata settled down, snuffling as he tried to get back to sleep. “As if?”

“What was that?” Hinata asked, really sleepily.

“Uh… nuthin’ really, just why ‘as if?”

“I told her it was because you were a nice person, and we were having fun, but … well … she gets dumb ideas in her head, and…” He yawned again. “You wouldn’t … you’re not … Gah, I’m so tired, nothing’s making sense.”

“Yeah, sleep.” He gnawed his lip. “Um, but what do you mean ‘you’re not’?”

“I told her you had a girlfriend.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“Because you do, don’t you?” Hinata squinted at him. “That girl Bokuto knows. You’re seeing her, aren’t you? She’s very pretty.”

“I’m … not,” Atsumu replied. “We went out once, and that wasn’t even really a date as I just went with her to ‘Samu’s place and … well … I guess I bought the food … but she’s not … uh … my type.”

“Oh.”

“Like,” he said, starting to bluster, “she didn’t even understand the difference between our normal toss and the minus tempo one. I was trying to explain, telling her about how you pace your run in and your jump and how sweet it is releasing the ball so it times exactly with the highest part of your jump, but … you know … she just kinda looked at me as if I were speaking a different language and made some smart remark.” He shrugged, remembering her words said with a yawn. _‘Maybe next time you should bring Shou-chan here instead.’_

Was that when he’d first realised? Because when the comment had sunk in, he knew he would much rather have been there with Hinata, and just Hinata, not with the team the way they often did after a game.

“Anyway,” he mumbled and stared at his hands. “I’m not seeing her or any girl. Or … um … anyone right now.”

Glancing across at Hinata, wondering whether now was a good time to confess, he saw his eyes had closed and his breathing had become slow and even.

“Shouyou-kun,” he said softly.

But Hinata didn’t reply. And confessing to someone when they were spaced out on painkillers, ill and half asleep was probably not a good idea when he thought about it.

Getting up to fetch a glass of water, he stared down at Hinata, noticing a little bit of colour had come back into his cheeks. “Maybe we c’n go there, just us two,” he muttered.

“I’d like that,” Hinata whispered back, but he sounded so drowsy, Atsumu wasn’t sure he even knew what he was replying to. All the same, his heart gave a kind of skippy, erratic beat the same way it did when he knew Shouyou was about to jump extra high.

It was close to three in the morning when Atsumu realised Hinata was awake. Opening his eyes, he caught sight of him huddled in a sitting position, rocking slowly back and forth.

“Shouyou? You okay?”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“That’s fine. Is it hurting?”

“Yeah, can I have more painkillers yet?”

“Uh… no … you took some at midnight. Want a drink? Or … um … maybe a yuntanpo would help. I’ve got an electric one somewhere.”

“Yeah, that would help.”

Getting out of bed, he rummaged through the cupboard under his sink, pulling out the hot water bottle with the furry fox cover his Mum had bought him. “How ‘bout you lie down and I’ll bring it to you when it’s charged.”

“I feel better sitting up.”

“Okay, then I’ll sit with you,” Atsumu said, and tugging his blanket with him, he shuffled across to Hinata’s mat. “I could put the TV on, if you want a distraction.”

“I don’t want to keep you awake.”

“Meh, I can handle it. Got all day tomorrow to catch up.” He switched on the television, then handed Hinata the remote telling him to choose, while he sorted out the hot water bottle.

They settled down together, Hinata holding the yuntanpo to his ear, and watched the sports channel. There was no volleyball, but they watched a tennis match, and Hinata started to tell him about a friend of his back at Junior High who’d taught him a side step. But he was rambling, the words coming out in a confusing muddle as he winced his way through the story.

“Hush,” Atsumu soothed, and put his arm over Shouyou’s shoulders. “Lean on me for a bit. See if you can sleep. And don’t feel you have to talk, ‘cuz it seems to be hurting you.

“Thanks.” And whether it was because he was ill, or perhaps he had no fear of embarrassment, he collapsed sideways into Atsumu’s chest and allowed Atsumu to cover them both with a blanket.

Hinata’s hair was warm and a little damp with sweat, tickling Atsumu’s neck and although he could have turned his head away, he curled around him taking all his weight in his arms, while his fingers carded through his curls. And when Hinata instead of wriggling away slumped in closer, Atsumu wasn’t sure he’d ever felt this sense of completeness and peace.

_Is this what it’s like for ‘Samu and Rin? Is this what he was talking about?_

Somewhere in the course of what was left of the night, he fell asleep, waking a few hours later on hearing the music for the eight o’clock news bulletin. He’d been having a good dream as well, for once not about volleyball, but a picnic on a warm day where he sat under a tree and held hands with—. Feeling movement next to him, he opened one eye, to see Hinata trying to extricate himself from under his arm.

_Ohhhh, shiiit. This could be awk-ward._

“Hey,” he said, injecting some sleepiness into his tone. “Whoa, did we fall asleep together?”

“Haaa… yeah.” Hinata grimaced

“There was me thinking I had this Shouyou-shaped yuntanpo,” Atsumu wisecracked. Shouyou didn’t laugh. “Uh, sorry, how are you feelin’? Um… with your ear, I mean?”

“Much better,” Hinata replied swiftly.

“Really? That’s quick.”

“Yeah, those drops must be miracle … uh … drops. Um… Atsumu-san, I need to pee.”

“Oh … sure.” He released him and stretched. “Want a drink? Tea? Coffee?”

“Uh … tea, I guess.” As Hinata stumbled towards the bathroom and Atsumu frowned.

He made tea, dunking two bags in mugs, and waited for Hinata to reappear. “Should warn ya,” he called when he heard the door, “Osamu’s got the all the cooking ability in the family, and according to him, I burn water.” He nudged a mug at Hinata. “I didn’t add milk in case I put too much in, but there’s some there.”

“Thanks.” Hinata stirred his tea, then took one of the chairs at table. “I … um … I think I can go home this morning. I feel fine now.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“And training? You’ll be back on Monday, will ya?”

“Oh… maybe. I’ll … um … speak to the doctor.” He smiled, but it was wobbly.

“Fine.” Atsumu sipped his tea, blowing across the mug rim to cool it down. “Gonna walk home? Or jog, perhaps?”

“Might do.” He looked out the window at the grey sky. “Maybe the bus. It could rain.”

“Drink your tea before it gets cold.”

“Thank you.” He sipped it and winced a little as he swallowed.

At that Atsumu leant over the table. “Why are you lying?”

“What?”

“You’re not puttin’ me out. You’re welcome to stay, and considerin’ you could barely walk straight to the bathroom and you’re having trouble drinkin’ and even smilin’, then there is no way in hell you should be going back to your house, when the only person there is that idiot whose music shakes the walls!” Atsumu lectured.

“I’m not lying!” Hinata yelled, and then yelped, covering his ear with his hand. “Okay, okay, maybe I’m not better, but I _should_ go home.”

“Why? Oh … shiiit. It’s me, ain’t it?”

Hinata resumed stirring his tea. “No, I just think … I can’t put you out like this. And I’m honestly okay, or I will be in a day or two, so I might as well…” He flinched again and cupped his ear.

“You might as well stay here until you’re better,” Atsumu said gently and swallowed. “Look, I’ll be back at training tomorrow, so you won’t see much of me, and … we …” He broke off. _Shit, is this to do with Tobio?_

“I—”

_Okay, let’s turn this into a joke. Keep it light._ “I know, I know, I’m hell to share with. Was it the snoring or the talking? OHHHH Did I sleepwalk? I used to have t’ have the bottom bunk at home in case I fell down the ladder. ‘Samu once found me in the shower sleeping.”

“N-no,” Hinata replied, but still sounded cagey. “You’ve been really kind letting me stay last night and meeting me from the coach.”

“Shouyou, I’m not a kind person,” Atsumu interrupted. “’Samu’ll tell you, and Suna-kun’ll tell you a lot more, and make up some stuff too, and I wouldn’t exactly blame him. I didn’t invite you here cuz I’m a nice person, but because I’m selfish.”

“What?”

“It was to make me feel better, all right? I was worried about you and that made me feel sick to my stomach and—” He broke off, knowing he sounded all kinds of dumb. “We get on okay, don’t we? We’re friends?”

“Yeah.”

Atsumu sniffed. “Then don’t go yet. It’ll be quieter here than at your place. Unless you _really_ can’t stand the sight of me.”

He waited for Hinata to reply, wondering which way he’d be swayed because the one thing he knew about him was how stubborn he was, how once he’d made up his mind about something, he’d pursue it with dogged determination.

“I like having you around,” he added and splayed his hands on the table. “But I know I’m obnoxious.”

“You’re not,” Hinata replied with feeling, and then flinched and held his ear.

“Shou-kun, you’re not well,” Atsumu implored.

He gave a shuddering sigh. “My ear’s screaming at me, so … yeah … I’ll stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter tomorrow! Thank you for reading. Much appreciated :D


	3. Rice

With the lunchtime rush over, Osamu took his break, but instead of sitting out the back, he left Onigiri Miya in the hands of his assistants and took the short walk across to Atsumu’s. He brought more miso with him, having answered Atsumu with a snort and a degree of pity for Hinata, because ‘Tsumu was the worst cook—not just in the Miya family but in the history of cooks in Hyogo ever.

“He’s still with you then?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a question, that’s all! It’s Monday and I thought he might have gone back to his own home.”

“He’s still wobbly. Anyway, I _have_ to go to training, so would you…”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ll send someone round.”

“No… uh … couldn’t you go, and sit with him for a while.”

“I have to work!”

“But he’ll be bored.”

“’Tsumu, I’m sure Hinata-kun knows how to entertain himself, and if he’s as ill as you say, he’ll just want to lie down and not see anyone.”

“For me?”

“Absolutely not! Maybe for Shorty-kun, though. Okay, it’ll have to be after lunch.”

Approaching Atsumu’s street, he fished out the key in his pocket and was about to cross the road when a figure loomed out in front of him.

“Secret assignation, eh?” they hissed. “Or are you skiving, Miya?”

“’Tarou!” Osamu couldn’t stop the smile spreading on his face, far superseding the shock. “I thought you weren’t coming back ‘til Wednesday.”

“Got bored,” Suna said. “I was going to surprise you at the shop, but they said you’d gone to your brother’s.” His eyes narrowed a little. “Do you often have lunch with him?”

“Nope. And I’m not now. This is a delivery.”

“Jeez, he’s got you running errands now!”

Osamu frowned at the biting tone. “It’s not an errand. I’m bein’ kind.”

He raised his eyebrows but said nothing, which automatically caused Osamu’s hackles to rise.

“I am!”

“I believe you,” Suna replied and made a sound like a whip crack.

“Stop that!”

Sniggering, Suna took his arm, but annoyed he shrugged him off. “This ain’t for ‘Tsumu,” he said. “He’s got someone staying with him.”

“Ohhhhh …. Really?”

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what,” Suna replied, and cast him a sly look. “Is it Sakusa? Are you preparing them special romantic meals?”

“No it ain’t. You were completely wrong about that.”

“Mmm, I can see because Sakusa would be training too, and I can’t see him wanting to stay at ‘Tsumu’s place, unless he’s turned into a neat freak overnight.” He tapped his chin, as he pondered. “So, if it’s not a teammate, it’s got to be either a rival or an old flame. Except he didn’t really have any, so… OH MY GOD, IT’S KITA-SAN!”

“Shhhhh, no! Wh-why would you say that?”

“Because he had a crush on him at school. You both did.”

“No, I was terrified of him. That’s not the same thing at all!”

“You still are,” Suna chuckled. “Are you going to tell me who’s staying at Atsumu’s?”

“Nope,” he replied, then grinned. “Come and see for yourself.”

“You’ll let me.”

“On one condition.”

“Hmm … okay, we’ll do _that_ later.” Suna murmured, and touched Osamu on the thigh.

“Nooooo, I mean, yes, but,” Osamu swallowed down the fluster. “I mean that’s not the condition.”

“Ah, so what is?”

“You are not to mention a crush, a show of interest, or even hint that Atsumu might like this person. You are to remain ...” He zipped his lips.

“No fun! Just what is the point?”

“But,” Osamu said, waggling his eyebrows, “you are allowed to observe. And then we can have an in-depth discussion.”

Suna assented, so with another grin, Osamu led him up to Atsumu’s apartment. He supposed he should feel guilty about spilling Atsumu’s secret, but he’d been wondering about the whole situation, which Atsumu wouldn’t discuss it At All.

_And ‘Tarou might just pick up on something._

“Brace yourself,” he whispered, the key in Atsumu’s door. “Hinata-kun, it’s Osamu!”

And he laughed seeing ‘Tarou’s expression – ‘what the fuck’ mingling with shitstirring delight..

“You are kidding me!” Suna breathed.

He shook his head. “Hinata!”

“Osamu-san?” came quite a feeble sounding voice from the bathroom.

“Yeah, ‘Tsumu asked me to come round with some food. Are you up to visitors?”

“Um… yes, I’m not infectious,” Hinata replied and slid open the bathroom door. He was smiling, then his eyes widened on seeing Osamu’s companion. “Wow, Suna-san. You’re here too!”

“Visiting,” Suna said mildly. “Osamu said you’re staying with Atsumu?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Not training?” He tilted his head to the side, clearly assessing the situation, and his eyes started to look like a calculator. “Have the Jackals released you?”

“Ah, no, I’m ill.” He touched his ear. “Atsumu-san’s been looking after me.”

“How … um … _nice_ of him,” Suna said, keeping his face straight, despite Osamu stepping on his foot.

“It is, isn’t it,” Hinata said, a little eagerly. Then he sighed and flopped down on a chair.

“I brought soup,” Osamu said, holding up the bag.

“Oh, good.”

“Not for you, ‘Tarou,” he retorted, but with a slight grin. “When’s my bro due back?”

“He said around five.”

“Ah, well, I have enough miso for two, and I’m sure I c’n rustle up somethin’ up now ‘Tarou’s gatecrashed. Is it okay if we stay, Hinata-kun. Keep you company?”

Hinata nodded, again eagerly and switched the television off, while Suna wandered across to the window, staring out at the balcony.

“Shame it’s not warmer weather, or we could eat out there,” he murmured. “But at least it’s not raining.”

 _What the heck was he babbling about the weather for?_ He tried to meet Suna’s eye, to work out what he’d noticed because Osamu was sure there was something. He could see the expression on Suna’s face, the way he’d assumed a mask which meant his mind was ticking into overdrive.

“What’s wrong with you, Hinata-kun?” he asked, sounding kind. “Have you seen a doctor?”

He nodded. “I saw Dr Hanamori — she looks after the team. Atsumu-san told her it was an emergency, and … uh … I’ve got an ear infection. I’m quite … um wobbly.”

“You look a bit better than you did getting off the coach,” Osamu remarked. “Not as pale.”

“More time off training, though,” Suna said. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Yeah, but you were always lazy,” Osamu replied.

“Not fair! I just don’t see the need for road races and … any type of racing.” He sat on the floor, back against the wall. “Osamu and Atsumu were monsters, Hinata-kun. Never gave up. Always the last at training. I was tired watching them.”

“Hinata’s the same,” Osamu put in, and opened one of Atsumu’s cupboards, finding instant ramen. “Jeez, does he have anythin’ remotely nutritious?”

“There’s eggs in the fridge, I think, and some bananas,” Hinata said.

“What do you mean he’s the same?” Suna asked. “Do you slack off like me?”

“No, the same as ‘Tsumu. They go running together.”

“And Bokuto,” Hinata added. “Sometimes.”

“Gahhd, you’re another monster,” Suna drawled. “I’m not sure I could cope with being on the same team as you. Atsumu does like that challenge, though. And now he no longer has you…” He fluttered his eyelashes at Osamu. “He needs his competitive fix, so he must _love_ having you around.”

Hinata blinked.

“’Tarou,” Osamu warned.

“What?”

“Why don’t you play cards with Hinata? That would be a _nice_ thing to do, while I try and rustle up some food.”

“Sure, how about Happy Families? Miya-kun, the Setter and his brother, the Chef. Mix it with Snap and we have the Miyas. The things I could tell you about the Miyas and their fights. Does Atsumu yell at practise?”

“How about poker?” Osamu said quickly.

“Huh?” Hinata’s head flicked back and forth between them. “Um, I’m not very good at poker. Ennoshita-san tried to teach me, but said I show everything on my face,” he said, and squinted at Suna. “Do you play?”

“He’s a card shark,” Osamu laughed. “Don’t trust him an inch.”

“I bet you’re like Tsukishima,” Hinata blithely continued, missing the shadow cross Suna’s face. “But Suga-san sussed him because he said everyone had a tell, which is kinda like volleyball, don’t you think?” He turned a headlight beam of a smile onto them both, momentarily punching the breath out of Osamu and rendering Suna bemused. “He does, by the way.”

“Uh… what?” Suna asked.

“Yell at practise.” He shrugged. “Kageyama was the same, and wow Daichi-san could raise the roof when he shouted. Was Kita-san like that?”

“Kita?”

“Atsumu told me he was scary.”

“ _They_ were scared of him,” Suna said, his lips twitching. “Kita-san could quell them with one look.” And then he smiled fully, no longer snide and secretive. “You clearly don’t mind the tantrums them, Hinata-kun? Maybe that’s why you’re such a good team. On court, I mean.”

“Uh… maybe.” He appeared to flop again.

“You okay there?” Osamu asked.

“Do you need medication?” Suna asked solicitously.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Want us to leave?”

“No… I’m sure Atsumu would like to see you.”

“Of course he would,” Suna murmured, and then avoiding Osamu’s glare, he reached across to a chest of drawers. “Right, there are cards here, or Monopoly. What do you say?”

“Not monopoly,” Osamu said immediately, flushing a little.

“Ah, I forgot,” Suna stage whispered to Hinata. “The Miya brothers’ competitive spirit surfaces in spades whenever the monopoly board appears. It’s vicious. And you don’t want to witness that.”

They settled on cards, Suna and Hinata playing gin rummy while Osamu cooked up some noodles, adding the vegetables he’d found in Atsumu’s fridge, which he dumped in the miso he’d brought. And after, the three of them sat around the small table, slurping as they swapped stories of games they’d played in, Hinata leaving Suna open-eyed when he talked nineteen to the dozen about Brazil, beach volleyball and meeting Oikawa Tooru.

“You have played with some cool Setters, then,” Osamu said when he could get a word in edgeways.

“Where does Atsumu rank?” Suna asked, flicking a glance at Osamu.

He held his breath, waiting for Hinata to swallow the last of the soup.

“Oh… he’s—”

The front door clicked open. “Jeez, that was a fricking frustratin’ session. Too much talk and not enough actual work,” Atsumu hollered, his back to them as he took off his coat. “They all say Hi and hope you’re better soon. Oomi-kun wouldn’t come near me until he saw the fricking doctor’s note that you weren’t infectious. Even then he handed me sanitizer gel before I touched a ball. Bokuto bought you some chocolates which I have right—” He turned around. “What the fuck are you two doin’ here?”

“Yes, how lovely to see you too, Atsumu,” Suna retorted.

“I brought Hinata-kun some food,” Osamu supplied. “And we thought we’d keep him company.”

“Wearin’ him out, you mean. Look, he’s exhausted!”

“No he’s …” Osamu swivelled back to Hinata who’d pushed his bowl to the side. “Oh… are you okay?”

“Bit tired and should probably have some painkillers,” Hinata mumbled. “Osamu cooked some great food and Suna-san’s been making sure I wasn’t bored.”

“I’m sure he has.” Atsumu glowered.

Osamu raised his eyebrows, fixing a direct stare on his twin. “You did ask me to check up on Hinata-kun…” he said mildly. “’Tarou surprised me by comin’ back early. Is there a problem, ‘Tsumu? Are we intruding?”

That set him back on his heels. He stiffened, glared again at his brother, and then with sheer force as he saw Hinata looking puzzled, he fixed a smirk on his face. “Nope,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m hungry, though, so where’s mine?”

“Three things,” Suna said as they left the apartment.

It had been fun, although slightly strained after Atsumu came back. Fun because it was always fun needling Atsumu, and also Hinata was entertaining to be around, but strained because much as he loved winding up his brother, he could see the effort it took Atsumu not to lash out and that in an odd way hurt.

“What?” Osamu asked.

“One … Atsumu’s whipped! He’s got it baaaaaad.”

“Hey, don’t be too mean.”

“I’m not. I speak the truth. Whether it’s a crush or something deeper, I don’t know, maybe you can answer that, but he’s … ‘Samu, he’s being ‘nice’ – just like we told him to be!”

He’d noticed that. Noticed Atsumu going out of his way to present a good image of himself, fetching drinks for everyone and even clearing the plates. “Number two?”

“Hinata-kun visibly wilted when Atsumu returned.”

“Yeah.” He sucked on his lip. “What do you think that means?”

“Two possibilities … the first is that Atsumu is an alien sucking the life force out of every orange haired wing spiker he comes into contact with, and that’s the source of his power … MWAHAHAHAAAAA!”

“We-ell, it’s possible. There was a tangerine kid at our Junior High, he weren’t a wing spiker, but he did kinda disappear in the middle of the year,” Osamu joked. “They said he’d transferred, but then they would say that, wouldn’t they?”

“The other far more intriguing possibility is that Hinata for some reason is making it up.”

“Nooo, he was really ill. And why would he? He’s not been able to go to practise, or anything!”

“True. I can’t believe he’d want to skip volleyball; he’s as obsessed as your brother.” He stopped walking, thinking it out. “Okay, he’s too ill for practise, because I agree he’d have gone back as soon as he could, but …”

Osamu gasped. “He doesn’t need ‘Tsumu looking after him. He could go home!”

“Exactly! He’s as whipped as Atsumu.”

“Whoaaaa, that’s good, ain’t it?”

“As long as it’s not just a crush, then yes,” Suna explained, then shook himself. “Why I’m at all bothered, I don’t know? I don’t care if the Jackals fall apart because those two dumbasses get together then messily split up.”

“Cuz you’re a nice person too and a hopeless romantic?” Osamu suggested.

“Shut the fuck up! I’m not.”

They walked for a little in silence, Osamu nudging him with his shoulder.

“What’s number three?”

“Oh … that.” Suna gave his best shit-stirring grin. “He’s only airing one futon mattress.”

Osamu gaped. “So … they’re … You think they’re already … uh … Noooooo… I don’t believe that!”

“Nor do I.”

“You don’t?”

“If they were actually screwing, your brother would not have been able to resist bragging about it. He’s proprietary as shit about Hinata as his wing spiker, as a boyfriend he’d be … _unbearable!_ ”

“So… schnuggle bunnies? Aww, that’s sweet. Think of ‘Tsumu curling his arms round Hinata, his chin resting in his hair.”

Suna laughed. “Jeez, ‘Tsumu isn’t the only one who’s whipped!”

“Bokuto is louder!” Atsumu said. “Can you actually believe that? He goes to Tokyo and returns at a hundred and fifty percent. Extra loud and extra annoying.” He unwrapped a chocolate, wondering if he’d overdone the bitchiness. “Good of him to buy you these though.”

“I should text him and say thank you,” Hinata said, and plunged his hand in the box. “Everything else was good, though, yes?”

“Mmm, fine. Apart from Bokuto, it was all low key. Need you back, t’ keep them slackers on their toes. How are you feelin’, by the way?”

“Bit better. I suppose I _could_ go home, if… if you want me to.”

Was Atsumu imagining the despondency in Shouyou’s voice?

“It’s late,” Atsumu complained, ignoring the fact it was only seven. “Might as well stay tonight, and then see how you are tomorrow, unless you’re really sick of me.”

“No… no I’m not. Thank you, Atsumu-san.” He thrust the chocolates at him. “Have some more.”

“Mmm, in a bit. I should get the mattress inside in case it rains.” He got up, stretching a little, and cast a covert look at Hinata. “Maybe tonight I won’t fall asleep on you watching television again. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s fine. Like sleeping in dorms at training camp.” Hinata grinned widely, lost on memories. “I ended up sprawled over Tanaka-san once, Not that he minded, but Kageyama refused to sleep next to me after first year.”

“He did?” Atsumu asked, hoping he sounded casual. “So you weren’t close back then?”

“Um, not really. It’s kinda odd because we started as rivals and hated each other.” He stopped to consider. “Hate’s a strong word. We disliked each other … intensely.” As he grinned up at Atsumu, he couldn’t help but smile back. “But once we connected on court, then … um I guess respect grew.”

“Just respect.” And now he was ultra casual, fiddling with the latch on the balcony doors, not wanting to stop the conversation, even if it led somewhere he didn’t want to go.

“We-ell, I got on better with Yamaguchi and Yachi, oh, and Tanaka-san, but Kageyama was …” He thought some more. “He was hard work but we got there in the end.”

He’d heard enough, at least for now and unclipped the door getting a blast of the chill air on his balcony. The city below was a mass of neon and car headlights, above him the sky was darkening, but he couldn’t see any stars and the moon had slid behind a cloud.

“I’m craving chicken karaage,” he said when he came back in. “There’s a stall nearby makes it really crispy. Want some?”

“Sounds great. My wallet’s over there.”

“Naw, it’s fine.”

“No, let me pay.”

“It’s karaage, Shouyou,” he said, already slipping his shoes on. “It ain’t gonna break me.”

“But I should pay you back. For everything you’ve done for me.”

“Another time,” he murmured.

“Oh, I know. I’ll buy you Onigiri Miya. We can go there together.”

“Haaa … yeah, maybe.” _Cuz, ‘Samu will love that._

When he got back, Shouyou was wiping down the small table and humming to himself. He smiled when Atsumu walked in, taking the bag from him. “If you won’t let me pay, then I can at least show gratitude by dishing up.”

“I usually eat out of the carton,” Atsumu replied, “but I could get used to this.”

“I like sitting down to eat, especially with company. It was one of the fun things about playing volleyball.” Smiling a touch lopsidedly, he paused. “And one of the worst things about Brazil when I first got there.”

“In what way?”

“Oh, I shared with a guy, Pedro, and he was … uh … unforthcoming. Barely spoke and so I didn’t have anyone to eat with, or share anything. He wasn’t a volleyball player, you see.”

“Oh, so … did you stay there?” He found that oddly disconcerting, sad because the Shouyou he knew was so full of life, chatty and friendly that the idea of someone not wanting to speak to him was anathema to him.

Hinata laid out two bowls, then dug the two cartons out of the bag placing them in the centre of the table, gesturing to Atsumu to sit first.

“Yeah, I stayed. It was fine after a while. I discovered Pedro loved anime, and we kinda bonded over that. It’s how I learnt a lot of Portuguese.”

“That’s really cool, Shouyou-kun.” He sat down, and started to serve up, ladling some of the chicken into Hinata’s bowl. “In fact, I think going to Brazil was a really amazing thing to have done. You knew no one and … wow.”

“I needed to improve. I needed to know how to count on court. And beach volleyball was the best way to improve. Either that or grow a meter.”

“You counted,” Atsumu said. “Back then, you more than made your presence felt.”

“Mmm, but I was always reliant on Kageyama. And I couldn’t tag along with him all the time, could I?”

“You couldn’t?”

“Well no. Not if I wanted to beat him.” He grinned and added some rice to his bowl.

“You’ve beaten him now,” Atsumu murmured. “Would you … um … want to play with him again?”

“Sure!”

The news hit him as squarely in the face as a Bokuto block. “Oh… really?”

“For Japan,” Shouyou replied. He chewed some chicken. “But that’s it. And I want you sending me tosses too.”

“Deal.” Swallowing some water, he considered his next words carefully. “But you and Tobio-kun, are … um… friendly now, right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Close?”

“We went through three years of school including three Spring Highs, so yeah, I suppose we are.”

Coughing, he tried to mumble a question, half needing/half scared of the answer. “How about off-court?”

Hinata pursed his lips. “There is no off-court with me and Kageyama. We’re always competing.”

_Is he being deliberately dense?_

“Is it always about volleyball with you?” Atsumu asked.

“Pretty much. This chicken is amazing. Gah, I’m so glad I can chew without it hurting so much. Can’t wait to get back to training.”

Not knowing if he’d deliberately changed the subject, or whether Hinata really had a butterfly mind, Atsumu played along.

“You’re signed off for the week,” Atsumu scolded, using his best (although sadly inadequate) Kita-san tone. “You can’t push your health, Shou-kun, you know that!”

“Ugh, you’re right. Maybe I could come and watch though.”

“Yeah, sure, and then you’ll accidentally have brought your kit and you’ll try out some moves and …” He waved his chopsticks on the air. “My old captain would kick my ass for not taking proper care, so I’m gonna kick yours, Shouyou.”

“I might be fine tomorrow.”

“And you might not be.” Atsumu paused. “How about, we see how tonight goes? If you’re okay, then mayyybe, you c’n come along and watch tomorrow. But only watch.”

“I miss your tosses,” Hinata sighed. “I truly miss watching your form, Atsumu-san. Sometimes I … noooo that’s embarrassing.”

“What?”

“I dream about us on court.”

“Really? I do that, too.” _And it’s just us. I set a ball impossibly high, but you get to it and it’s like you have wings because you reach it so effortlessly and I’m in awe …_

“Ha, yeah. It’s like I’m watching us, not actually playing, and it’s in slow motion, so I can see your toss as it arcs through the air, and how you’re so still giving nothing away, and then there’s this small guy jumping for the ball, and as I watch, I see a this splash of red hair and realise it’s me jumping. And then I either send a sweet spike over Ushijima-san’s head.” He smiled ruefully. “Or my legs are stuck in treacle and the ball lands on my head. And you’re… uh …”

“Yelling?”

“Disappointed.”

“Oh…” For some reason the fact that DreamAtsumu hadn’t got angry with DreamShouyou, pierced him so sharp that he found it hard to formulate words. “Um, then we need to make sure there’s no treacle on the court so we can beat Ushiwaka … and Tobio, of course, every time.”

“So…” Shouyou peeped at him from underneath his short, spiky lashes, “C’n I come to practise tomorrow?”

“Oh, you’re pushin’ it, Shouyou, really pushin’ it!”

Later, when Shouyou began to flag and under protest took more painkillers, Atsumu unrolled one of the futons and they sat together, propped up with cushions watching a movie. And it occurred to him then that Osamu had been right. Atsumu liked his own space off court, not because he wanted or needed to be alone, but because he didn’t like anyone else enough to want to share his solitude.

_Until now._

“C’n I ask you somethin’?” he muttered as the advert break came on.

“Mmm.”

“You and Tobio … are you … uh … were you ever…?”

Shouyou stared at him. “Ever what?”

“You said nothin’ was off court between you two, but … um …do you mean it’s only about volleyball,” he muttered. _Okay, let me spell this out._ He screwed up his eyes. “Are you going out together? Not as friends, but boyfriends?”

“Like Osamu-san and Suna-san?” Hinata asked.

Involuntarily he flinched. “Well, I’d hope it wasn’t as gross as that, but uh … yeah.”

“No.”

“I mean it’s not an issue if you are, as long as you’re not telling him team—” He blinked. “What did you say?”

“No,” Hinata repeated. “I’m not seeing Kageyama and never have. It’s … um … not like you and Osamu-san.”

“What the heck does that mean?”

“Our connection on court stayed on court. We’re pretty different in real life. And … um …”

“What?” he asked, suspicious now because Hinata was peeping up at him again.

“ _He_ doesn’t make me laugh,” Shouyou said simply.

“Oh.”

The movie blared back on. It was one of Atsumu’s favourite bits, full of colour and flare, the heroes zooming off into the sky leaving neon trails scorching through the atmosphere.

But all he could do was stare back at Hinata, his splash of colour in the dark. “Do I make you laugh?” he squeaked.

“Yes,” Hinata breathed. “All the time.”

“Oh.”

Shouyou inched closer. “Is that all you can say? Only I thought you were trying to tell me something.”

“Do I need to say anythin’ else?” Atsumu whispered, and moved closer, brushing his lips against Hinata’s cheek, before petalling across to his mouth.

“Guess not,” Hinata replied, sliding his hands around Atsumu’s shoulders.

“That is gross. You’re the proprietor here, Miya,” Suna said, scowling. “Make it stop.”

“Huh?” Osamu handed him a tray of food. “C’n you take that to them? I’ve got a rush order on.”

“No. NO! They’re playing footsie! I should not have to see that!”

Osamu grinned a little goofily, unconsciously mirroring his twin who was gazing at Shouyou across the small table for two in Onigiri Miya.

They’d walked in from practice, four days after Osamu and Suna had dropped round, and it had been clear from the moment he’d seen them that things had changed. Sure, Atsumu looked the same, scowled at Suna the same, and tried to get a discount as usual, but there was a warmth to his shit-eating grin when he helped Hinata stash his kit bag, which gave everything away.

“It’s sweet,” Osamu said. “And didn’t we used to do the same?”

“We were seventeen! You’re expected to be gross and overly demonstrative at that age!” He shuddered. “I can’t watch any longer.”

“Take the food and then you can go upstairs. Wait for me there if it’s really grossing you out so much,” Osamu said placidly, but then he sighed. “I kinda miss being seventeen.”

“Ughh! They’re holding hands now.”

“Then take the food and they’ll stop!”

“No, they’ll probably feed each other,” Suna whimpered. “What do you mean you miss being seventeen?”

“Remember what we used to do with that chocolate puddin’?”

His face went from a scowl to a smirk immediately. “Have you got any?”

“Ohhhhh, yeah. Go and serve the two lovebirds, and then you can do whatever you want,” Osamu whispered. “I’ll join you on a break, once I’ve finished makin’ up this last order.”

As Suna made a show of interrupting Atsumu and Hinata, placing the tray right in the middle of them so they sprang apart, Osamu smiled to himself. And although he was on a promise, he took his time with the order so he could observe his brother.

They were sharing food, feeding each other with chopsticks in the way cutesy- cutesy couples did in anime, and it was enough to make Osamu shudder, except … this was his brother and this was the first time he reckoned he’d seen him this in awe with life since they’d walked into a gym and heard a coach telling them he’d make it ‘easy for ‘em all’ to hit his tosses.

And as he’d said to ‘Tarou, he liked his brother being happy … _cuz that makes me happy too._

As they waited for Hinata’s bus, Atsumu rewrapped his scarf for the nth time, only stopping when he was completely satisfied.

“Don’t want you getting’ earache again,” he explained, and pecked a kiss on Hinata’s nose. “You don’t have to go back tonight, you know.”

“I do,” Hinata replied, sighing. “I’m running out of clothes for one thing.” He scuffed his shoe onto the pavement. “I should tell you something.”

“What’s that?” Atsumu asked, not worried, but indulgent of whatever Shou-kun was about to confess.

“I could have easily gone home on the Monday. Maybe even Sunday. It was only Saturday night when I felt really bad.”

“I guessed.” He tugged Shouyou’s sleeve, drawing him closer. “But I liked havin’ you around. Like it even more now.”

The bus arrived, and after a last hug, he watched Hinata hop on, taking a window seat and flashing him his dazzling smile before the bus set off. And he watched it for a while before turning around and heading back to Onigiri Miya.

“Where’s my brother?” he asked the server behind the counter.

“On his break,” she said. “With … um … upstairs … with … uh …”

He caught her blush and quirked a smile in her direction. “That’s fine. I won’t disturb him. Jus’ tell him I’m happy, right?”

“Huh?”

Laughing, he picked up a salmon onigiri garnished with seaweed. “Tell Osamu, I’m happy and plan to be so for the next sixty years.”

“Um … sure. Will he know what this is about?”

“It’s about rice,” he told her, biting into his food. “How you can eat your fill and still want more. How happy it makes ya feel, and …” He closed his eyes, inhaling the smells of the store as he munched, and seeing Shouyou’s upturned face as he leant in for a kiss. “And how everything’s perfect when you add a splash of colour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Than you for reading, leaving kudos and commenting. It's honestly much appreciated, and I hope you've enjoyed reading the story as much as I did writing it. 
> 
> Hinata, Miyas and Timeskip has done wonders for me, gotta say. I love you, Furudate!


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